and it's not somebody who's seen the light
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: Sirius, with a house full of ghosts, alcohol, and a past that won't let him rest.


Written for the Hogwarts' Study of Magical Object Assignment: Write a story using the flashback device prominently and ANZAC Event: Write about remembering someone who's died, as well as the Daily Prompt on the Golden Snitch: (emotion) heartache.

 _Word count:_ 1824

 **and it's not somebody who's seen the light**

"You miss him, don't you?"

Sirius' eyes burn as he looks at Remus, before he takes another swig of alcohol. The liquid burns his throat as it goes down—Sirius doesn't even know what it is, and he doesn't care—and when that burn is gone, Sirius laughs. It comes out as more bitter than intended.

"He was a Death Eater," Sirius states, and he hates the way his voice catches on the words. Remus steps closer, his fingers wrapping around the dust-covered bottle and pulling it away. Sirius lets it go mournfully.

"He was your brother," Remus says. He is close enough now that Sirius can feel the heat radiating off his body, and Sirius thinks he might hate that too.

Seems like he hates a lot of things, these days.

Sirius lets out another bitter bark of laughter. "Not much of a brother, was I?"

And as he says those words, he sees it, sees him. Regulus, his little brother, a ghost stepping out from another time—and maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just the ache in his heart, but Sirius lets the memories take him over gladly.

"He was so goddamn bright, you know," he finds himself saying, but he's not sure if he's saying it to Remus or to the Regulus in his mind's eye.

 _("Sirius, Sirius, look what I found!" Regulus says, smiling so widely Sirius can see the gaps in his teeth._

 _His brother was unlucky enough to lose more than one of them at the same time, though the sight of his little brother's misshapen smile never fails to make Sirius smile._

" _Another book, Regulus?" Sirius laughs. "Aren't you afraid you'll be a Ravenclaw?"_

 _Regulus looks so offended at the thought that Sirius laughs again. "Ravenclaws don't have the monopole on smarts, you know," he says with a pout that, Sirius is sure, will look devastating in a few years. Now, however, it is simply adorable. "Besides, you know I'll be Sorted into Slytherin."_

" _I know, I know," Sirius replies, not wanting to offend his brother. He honestly doesn't see what would be so bad about being Sorted somewhere other than Slytherin, but he guesses that it's the family tradition. Shaking off these thoughts, he asks, "So, what's this book about?"_

" _Magical creatures," Regulus says with awe. "Did you know that Hippogriffs' talons are so sharp they can cut a man in half? Or that Cerberuses fall asleep when they hear music?! Isn't it fascinating?"_

 _Regulus goes on and on about what must be about half the creatures in the book he's holding, but his voice and enthusiasm never falters, and Sirius' smile never fades.)_

"So goddamn bright," he repeats. "And he wanted to be a Quidditch player—he never told out parents, of course. Merlin, can you imagine the shame? I can just hear my mother: "Quidditch player isn't a proper job, much less something worthy of a Black!"

"He told everyone he wanted to be inventing spells, working from home like a "proper Pureblood wizard" would, but I knew the truth," Sirius repeats. His eyes stings and his vision blurs a little until he blinks it away.

"Sounds like you had some good times," Remus says tentatively.

Sirius snorts, wishing he could drink again. "When we were young, maybe. We were never as close once I went to Hogwarts."

It's the truth and a lie at the same time, and it hurts like an old broken bone that was never properly set.

 _("You know, it wouldn't be this bad if you stopped antagonizing them," Regulus says. His eyes are cast downward as he stares at the hands he wriggles on his lap, but his voice is sure. It sounds like their father's, and Sirius is overcome by a flash of hatred so strong he sees red._

" _I'm not antagonizing anyone," Sirius retorts aggressively. "I just won't be their puppet anymore!"_

 _Regulus sighs. "I don't want to fight. Tell me… Tell me what Hogwarts is like. Tell me about your friends."_

 _It hits him then, that maybe Sirius_ does _want to fight. There's this fire that's been burning inside his stomach, this anger that's been slowly simmering in his veins ever since he received his first letter from home after being Sorted in Gryffindor, and Sirius itches to let it out._

 _But this is Regulus—Reg, his little brother, who's been bringing him dinner in secret and who stays up with him even though he shouldn't—and so Sirius doesn't._

 _Not yet, anyway._

 _Instead he burrows himself deeper in his pillows, his brother by his side, and he tries his best to describe the magic that is Hogwarts with words that are terribly inadequate._

" _You know, you'd make a good Gryffindor," he says at one point, and then pretends not to see the way Regulus winces._

" _And have Mother and Father mad at the both of us?" Regulus replies, unimpressed. "I think not."_

" _You don't always have to do what they want you to, you know," Sirius answers, feeling the familiar stirrings of his anger._

" _I know," Regulus simply replies. His eyes are shadowed, but his mouth is set in a determined line Siirius has never seen on his face before. "But maybe it's what I want too."_

 _It hits him then: he's missed a year of his brother's life._

 _Merlin, can he even say he knows him anymore?_

 _Sirius smiles to hide his unease, but picks up his story where he had left it. It's still easy, being with Regulus, but the unease doesn't leave._

 _The next night, Regulus doesn't show—the food is still there, though. Sirius isn't sure if that's a good thing or not.)_

"He tried to see me, you know. Before. Did I tell you that? He came to see me, say he had to tell me something, and I wouldn't even hear him out. And then he was dead." Sirius laughs again, a little hysterical. He grabs at the glass he had taken out but never used, and throws it against the wall. It shatters in a shower of shards, but it doesn't make him feel any better.

"He came to ask me for help and I said no, and then he died," Sirius laughs brokenly, and all he can see is Regulus' face as he had walked away that day.

 _(The pub is seedy and the lighting dark, but the alcohol's cheap. After the day he's had—hell, after the last few years—it really is everything Sirius needs to have a good time._

 _He almost doesn't recognize him when he walks in. The fact that this is a muggle establishment, and as such the last place he'd ever expect his perfect pureblood of a brother to show up to, probably plays a big part in that._

" _Well, well, well, look what the kneazle's dragged in," Sirius slurs._

 _Regulus casts him a disgusted look as he stops to a stand at Sirius' right, but his hands are shaking. Fear, Sirius realizes. He's half-angry at himself for still reading his brother's moods so easily after all this time, but mostly he's viciously happy._

" _Looks like you've finally figured out what kind of monster you've been working for," Sirius says, letting a mean smirk spread over his lips as his brother flinches. He almost expects the usual "But you don't understand!" retort, but when he never comes Sirius just snorts and downs another shot, raising it to his brother. "To you finally growing some balls then," he toasts with a mean grin._

" _Sirius, please," Regulus says pleadingly, grabbing at Sirius' arm._

" _Don't touch me!" Sirius snaps, suddenly overcome with a burst of rage. All he can see are his brother's masked friends, slaughtering their way through muggle towns and wizarding homes alike without a care in the world, and the thought that is brother might have been there too—was there too, most probably—turns his stomach._

 _Regulus moves his hand back like he's been burned and hurt flashes over his face. He looks pained now, vulnerable, and Sirius hates how that reminds him of the seven-year-old boy who used to follow him everywhere with stories about the latest thing he'd read._

" _Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it," he forces himself to say. "Leave," he orders, and he wishes the word didn't taste like so much ashes in his mouth._

 _Regulus' eyes look panicked now, and he doesn't make any move to leave._

" _Are you deaf now?" Sirius asks angrily, and he shoves Regulus away. To his surprise, his brother doesn't try to resist, just goes with the move, stumbling backward._

" _Sirius, please, it's important," Regulus tries again. His eyes are so, so full of so many emotions Sirius can't identify—hope, and pain, worry and terror too—and Sirius hates the way that still manages to make his heart twinge. "It's about the Dark Lord, he-"_

" _Go home, Reggie," Sirius interrupts harshly. "Crawl back to your Lord, to mother—Merlin, I don't care what you do anymore, just… Go."_

 _Something shutters close in Regulus' eyes, and the younger Black licks his lips nervously for a moment before he nods._

" _I-Okay," he says, eyes unnaturally bright. "Okay, I'll-I'll go. But if you want to ask me about-"_

" _I won't."_

" _But if you do," Regulus forges on, "just send me a letter, okay."_

" _I won't," Sirius replies._

" _Right," Regulus replies, forcing a tense smile on his lips. He wipes his palms on his trousers' legs, and it occurs to Sirius that he's never seen his brother so nervous before. "Well, goodbye then."_

" _Goodbye," Sirius echoes distantly._

 _Somehow, no matter how much more he drinks that night, the heartbreaking resignation written all over his brother's body as he walks out of that pub stays imprinted in his memory)_

"I'm sorry," Remus says awkwardly, waving his wand and vanishing the mess Sirius made. It makes him want to laugh again—it's so fucking ironic, the way this is basically their relationship in a nutshell: Remus, always cleaning up after Sirius' messes.

"What for?" he says instead. "You didn't kill him."

"Neither did you," Remus retorts.

"Well, it sure feels like I did."

"But you didn't," Remus insists. He puts a hand on Sirius' shoulder, and it is almost unbearably warm. It feels like it's burning a hole in him—or maybe it's just fixing the cracks in his soul.

"I do miss him," Sirius finds himself whispering. "I didn't think I would, but I do. I loved him, you know. He was my brother."

"I know," Remus whispers back. "I know."

In his mind's eye, Regulus smiles—not the twisted sneer he had perfected at Hogwarts, but the real one, the one he had used when Sirius pulled faces behind their mother's back.

And through his tears, Sirius smiles back. It almost makes the pain in his chest bearable.


End file.
